


Fight or Flight

by London_The_Loser



Category: Dear Evan Hansen
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Panic Attack, Suicide, Tree Bros, anger issues, emotional breakdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 17:52:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18665395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/London_The_Loser/pseuds/London_The_Loser
Summary: Connor can’t cope with the voices in his head.





	1. Chapter 1

“Connor, I just want to talk to you-“  
“Leave me alone mom.”  
“Connor please-“ Cynthia timidly put her hand on the taller boys shoulder.  
“DON’T TOUCH ME!”  
Connor swung he arm around, turning to face his mother as the back of him hand collided with his own mother’s face, knocking her back into the staircase railing.  
Connor stood in horror as he watched his mother sob quietly. And then he turned, and went to his room.  
Connor leaned against the door, trying his best to contain the panic and rage and hurt boiling inside him. Slowly sliding down, he pulled up his hood, putting all his effort into breathing. It wasn’t working. He was going to loose it again. He was going to hurt someone again. Fucking CHRIST.

Your such an idiot Connor.

Shut up! You don’t think I know that?!

I don’t think you realize it. Your so horrible. You hurt everyone. You don’t deserve anything Connor.

He shook his head. Not again. Not like this. But it was true, wasn’t it? He hit his mother, he hurt his sister, he’s a disappointment to his father, everyone at school is scared of him. He’s just such a FAILURE.  
Connor knew he couldn’t do anything. He wasn’t in control. Ha, when was he ever? 

You don’t deserve to be happy Connor.

“Shut up.” He knew there was no point. Why would there be? 

You don’t deserve to love.

“Just shut up all ready!”

How can you deserve anything when your so weak as to get worked up over voices in your head, Connor.

“JUST SHUT UP OKAY?!” Connors breathing was ragged. He felt lost. Blinded. Broken. Helpless.

You know what Connor? You don’t deserve. To live. 

“GET OUT!”

Die Connor. 

“GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!” His words slurred together. He wasn’t even making sense anymore. God was he insane. “SHUT UP AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HEAD! YOUR NOT TRUE OKAY?! JUST FUCKING GET AWAY FROM ME!” 

No one will love you. Evan doesn’t love you, why would he choose you over someone like your sister? He hates you. He’s afraid of you. 

Connor desperately groped at his head, tears brimming his eyes. He slammed his fist into the wall, packing all his bottled up anger into it. And thank god was it brick, or he would have made a dent. And again and again until he heard his knuckles crack and his blood stained hands couldn’t take it anymore. 

Look at you? Can’t even control your anger enough. That’s just another bill for your parents to pay Connor~

Connor slammed his right side into the wall, wincing at the sudden pain in his shoulder and crumpling to the floor. “LEAVE ME ALONE-“ Connor choked on his own sobs as he struggled against his own mind. God he was pathetic. It was true, wasn’t it? He was a waste of space. No one cared about him.

No one would care if you disappeared Connor. 

“I KNOW THAT OKAY?! STOP TELLING ME THAT IM PATHETIC I ALREADY FUCKING KNOW!” He was breaking. Fucking breaking. He must seem so crazy?! Sobbing on the ground screaming to no one with bloody fists and a bloody face? 

~~~~~~

Zoe sat upright in bed in her room next to Connors. Her whole body shook as she struggled to keep her composure. She kept remembering the few moments they had. When she had turned thirteen Connor had snuck her out at night to some random convenience store, buying so many of her favorite snacks and driving her to the old orchard where they just laughed and shared time together.  
And here she sat. Sat and listened to her big brother. She shook her head, tugging on her urge to let out a sob. She needed to do something, but she couldn’t. She was too scared, too scared he would hurt her like he usually did. She winced when Connor finally lost it, screaming like a mad man through the walls of the Murphy house, knocking things over and hitting the walls. She heard a crack, then another. This happened before. He would always break something when he lost it. Whether it was himself or something around him.  
And for the first time in so long she heard him sob. His screaming cut short by his breath hitching, followed by ragged breath and the sound of broken sobs.  
What happened to you, Connor? Where did my big brother go-

~~~~~~~~

Connor laid on his bedroom floor, feeling like shit. His hands burned, this shoulder ached, his head was spinning, and his throat felt coarse.

Given up already? 

A weak and broken Connor let out a growl. Oh who was he kidding, of course he had. He was fucking devastating. Can’t even win against himself.

Tsk. Make things easier for everyone else and go die.

Connors eyes widened. Maybe... maybe he... maybe he should. Connor slowly got up, pressing his hand against the ground as support and wincing at the throbbing pain. Taking one last deep breath he yanked the door open and stepped into the hallway, turning towards the bathroom.  
He slowly made his way down the hall, convincing himself that life was worth living. He was just going to wash off his face and cool off. That was until he looked up from the sink and saw the medicine cabinet in the reflection. It was like it was calling to him, and he couldn’t help but listen. Connor spun on his heels, yanking open the cabinet door and pulling out a bottle of pain relievers. 

That’s it. Your so close! And maybe this time try and do it right, I know it’s a hard concept, but I’m mildly sure you can carry out one simple task.

Connor hurried to unlock the door, slamming it as he bolted back across the hallway and down the flight of stairs. Finally reaching the front door he took one last look back. One last look at his house, before sprinting out of the house, sprinting away from his life. 

~~~~~~

Zoey knew something was off as soon as she realized Connor had left the house. Connor doesn’t just leave the fucking house. 

Shit shit shit shit she needed to follow him right now. Grabbing her bag and phone, she raced out of the house, hoping she could see Connors silhouette in the moonlight. 

There

Zoey tried to be as quiet as possible as she followed the sprinting boy, obviously heading to the park. After reaching the destination Zoe held in her heavy breathing, hiding behind a tree as she watched her brother make his way over to a large oak, sitting down and leaning against it. And then he pulled out a bottle. Some kind.... some kind of.... 

Shit. 

~~~~~~

After sitting down he pulled out the pills he grabbed, screwing open the lid. Before he ended it, he realized something, maybe he should write a note.... he smiled and reached into my back pocket, pulling out a sharpie and hovering it over my wrist. Connor decided to go with something short and obvious. “Fuck you, life” Perfect.  
And then, one last breath. In, out, in, out. One last look at the moon before everything came crashing closed. And then, then he was ready. And he put the bottle to his lips. And he spilled the contents and felt them flow past his teeth before tumbling down his throat and into his stomach.

Finally.

He closed his eyes, so ready. So excited. He finally got to end it, and he's making everyone else happy too. This hell he's been living, wont it be nice to escape. That was, until he heard footsteps. And then a familiar voice. 

“Weak ass.”


	2. Sticks and Stones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Words will never hurt me....

She didn’t know what else to fucking say! She couldn’t think of anything that would get to him like  
that would. Something sweet would just make him scoff and try harder to die. But maybe if she pissed him off he would have a reason. But when she heard a low rumble boiling up from her brothers throat, she took a second to reconsider. But she could feel memories well up, tipping out of her soul and pouring into her mind, filling her thoughts full to the brim, the pressure of it all molding her will. She needed to. 

“There is no fucking way you get to just take the easy way out, you got that Murphy?”

Steady. Steady. Deep breaths. Make them seem angry instead of desperate. Make its seem like your pulling effortlessly, opening the door, not pushing desperately to shut it. No tears. Push back the burn that stings your mind, refuse to allow the blurry hood to obscure your vision. 

“Your not fucking allowed!”

She couldn’t help it. She couldn’t help the fear that slipped effortlessly into her words, taunting them with desperation instead of aggression. Close your eyes. In. Out. In. Out. Cage the tears in. Lock the unsteady fear away. 

“Your not. Fucking allowed. Your not fucking allowed to leave after you made us suffer. Your not fucking allowed to ditch your goddamn fucking best friend. Your not allowed to fucking leave after you’ve made such a shit hole out of our fucking house!”

Perfect. Exactly how it needed to be. Unlike the usual terror, she felt a flash flood of pride at the low hum of another growl.

~~~~~~~~~

See. She fucking hates you Connor. She can’t even look at you Connor. You scare her Connor. Use whatever strength left in your pathetic body to run away and let yourself die alone and cold in the dark.

A scream clawed it’s way up his throat, ravaging everything in its wake, eventually tearing out of his quivering lips. Out of his peripheral vision he saw the silluette of his sister flinch back. His lungs felt tight as he struggled to shut his mouth, but the nasty sounds that flew out of his mouth forced it open. He felt hot tears prick his eyes, and the tightness in his chest became a burning flare. His back hunched and his arms went to cluch his sides. It would end. It wouldn’t stop. He was going to die like this. He couldn’t breathe. 

The inside of his throat burned like he had downed straight bleach, like gravel rubbing and scraping. But finally he had run out of air to use. He just noticed how hard he was shaking. How weak he felt. His throat felt more hoarse than he could even feel possible, and his nails dig into his sides as his grip becomes tighter and tighter. Each cough that came out only feuled the burn, until crimson was splattering the moonlit grass. He still couldn’t breathe, and he felt another clawing reach, another grasping pull on his recked insides. Lurching past his tongue and out his mouth once more.

He never thought his voice could cause so much pain. The one thing he used that he thought would never cause him pain. A shiver racked through his body, and he felt his mind blur. His cluch on his stomachs became tighter as pain rippled through it, rolling through his entire body and residing in his brain, hitting hard before fueling his ever dying vocals. It was a chain reaction that felt so real, it almost seemed normal. Before he even realized what was happening, Connor felt his head hit the ground with enough force to scatter the mindless haze only for a second more. His jaw snapped shut and locked itself in place. He kept it that way, even as heaves and coughs racked his body and the metallic taste of blood landed on his taste buds. And then the fog came thicker than it had ever, dragging him down. He was slipping... slipping.... slipping. 

Connor? Are you finally doing it? Are you finally dying? Oh, how weak. How pathetic. How eager you are to leave it all behind. Must have been a real fuck up. 

He found himself losing his hold on those final words, before tumbling into a black abyss.


End file.
